


The Heartless Man

by fictitiousLiterate



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Aromantic Sasha James, Canon Asexual Character, Gen, M/M, Martin's childhood is simultaneously more and less tragic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Martin Blackwood, cws in chapter notes, nothing nastier than canon, the lonely as a metaphor for depression in the form of losing one's heart, timsasha qpr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28124580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictitiousLiterate/pseuds/fictitiousLiterate
Summary: Martin has no heart and people love him anyway.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Georgie Barker, Martin Blackwood & Melanie King, Martin Blackwood & Original Father Figure, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 50
Kudos: 93





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin sells his heart to cure his mother and is raised by the local hermit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Child Abandonment  
> Death of a Parental Figure

When Martin was eight years old his mother was diagnosed with a wasting disease. His father left the next day and Martin did his best to take care of her. But taking care of her cost money. Money they didn’t have. On top of that, she hadn’t smiled since his father left. At ten he knew nothing would bring his father back. Honestly, he didn’t _want_ his father back; he just wanted his mother to love him again.

In his child’s mind, he believed she would love him again if he cured her of her illness. The local healers couldn’t do much and _wouldn’t_ do anything with out coin but there were other ways to seek healing. So he went to the old shipwreck on the coast where a spirit was said to dwell.

“Hello?” he called out in a tiny voice. He wasn’t afraid. He had to be brave for her.

“I-I’ve brought a present for you,” he tried again. He took out a poppet in offering to whatever hung in the mist.

“Hello!” called a cheery voice from behind him. Martin yelped and dropped the poppet. The man standing behind him was dressed as a ship’s captain and he picked up the poppet to inspect. “I don’t often get visitors. I’d really rather prefer it that way.”

“S-sorry to intrude but I had rather hoped…” Martin began. “I was told you could do things to help people. For a price. You see, my mother has a wasting disease and-”

The Capitan held up his hand for Martin to stop.

“I’m afraid a poppet isn’t the price for a cure,” he explained to Martin. “I can cure her in exchange for your heart.”

“My-my heart?”

“Not the _literal_ one. The one that feels. You wouldn’t feel love or hate or fear and in exchange, your mother would be cured. You’re getting the better end of the deal, really.”

“I would never be able to feel love again?” Martin asked. He’d been so afraid at the time.

“People have regrown their hearts,” The Captain admitted. “I don’t know why they would want to. Loneliness is so much more pleasant without the bitter pains of longing.”

Martin had agreed to the deal reasoning it would be easy to regrow his heart again once his mother loved him again. He was so innocent then.

What really happened once she was cured was she sold the house, including Martin’s things, and left for the city without so much as a word to Martin. Without his heart, Martin felt the dull pain of what would have been a total heartbreak and found himself living on the streets. People who had known him when he had a heart would probably have assumed his new-found _distance_ was caused by her leaving if it wasn’t for his newly white hair and grey eyes. Instead, they saw him as spirit-touched and turned away from him. Again, the pain of rejection was so dull he barely felt it.

Eventually, an old man in the village did take pity on him. Enough to take Martin in and train him to be an adventurer. The old man, Algernon Blackwood, had been an adventurer for nearly his entire adult life until an altercation with a bugbear had left him without a shield arm. He was a gruff old man and a hard teacher, but when Martin had asked to be called Martin, he had celebrated it. What should have been elation was only muffled happiness without his heart. When Algernon had given Martin his last name Martin was certain the spirit had lied to him. He was loved as a son and still he only felt to barest tinges of emotion. It was the first time he found tears collecting in his eyes that he didn’t recognize.

It was barely grief when Algernon died. His face felt wet but he didn't _feel_ the need to cry. He didn’t even have the heart to rage that his only real parent was gone and he couldn’t mourn him. He just did what his mentor asked of him. He donned Algernon’s (refitted) armor, took up his sword and shield, and set out to find an adventuring party that would take him.


	2. Martin's New Party Sets Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin makes some new friends (or some new people meet Martin and befriend him), takes his first adventuring contract, and meets The Anglerfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Brief mention of alcohol  
> Brief violence

Martin eventually found an adventuring party that would take him. It wasn’t until after he had started dying his hair and people stopped looking at him with uncertainty but he eventually found people who were willing to take him. Officially, he worked for The Magnus Institute but they put him and his compatriots on various contracts. There was Tim Stoker, a paladin whose heart burst out of him in smiles and clapped shoulders, Sash James, a wizard with a passion for information that occasionally came across as rude, and Jonathan Sims, a bard who hid his heart behind an academic mask. He had no real opinions on any of them because the foggy void where his heart was meant to be rang mostly silent.

Their first contract together is a relatively straightforward one: investigate the disappearances in Fisher’s Close, a village three days away from the city.

“So, new guy,” Tim starts as they leave the city. “What brought you into the glamorous life of adventuring?”

“It’s Martin,” Martin replies. _Well you see, Tim, I have no real passion for anything but this is where my skills lie so here I am._ Is what he doesn’t say. “I dunno. My mentor was an adventurer before he took me in and I just sort of followed in his footsteps. This is his armor.”

“Who was your mentor?” Sasha asks. “Anyone famous?”

“Not really? His name was Algernon Blackwood.”

“Blackwood as in _Martin_ Blackwood? Was he your uncle or something?” Sasha presses.

“Oh...no, he took me in after my mum…” Martin trails off. He knows better than to talk about his tragic past because it will likely lead to him having to pretend to be comforted. Implying dead parents got sympathy too, but dead parents were more common than deadbeat ones. “He took me in when I was around eleven and it made sense that I take his name.”

“Oh,” Tim replies. “Sorry, we did mean…”

“It’s fine,” Martin assures him because whatever pain he feels in regards to his mother is so far and muffled it may as well not be there at all. “So what got all of you into adventuring?”

“The Lady of Fire was really adamant,” Tim replies.

“It’s exciting,” Sasha replies. “Besides, where else am I going to be able to show off like this?”

At this Sasha shoots a display of fireworks out of her fingers. Tim applauds uproariously and sarcastically and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Go on, Jon,” Tim prompts. “You can tell Martin. You’re orphan buddies.”

“ _Tim_ ,” Jon huffs. “I-if you must know, it’s for research.”

“What kind of research?” Martin asks politely. Jon makes an annoyed face at him that melts when he doesn’t see the expression he expects. Although Martin can’t imagine _what_ expression that could be. Neither Tim nor Sasha seem to be intent on mocking him.

“Well, as I’m sure you know there are…things in the world that aren’t _of_ the world. Some of them are tied to the known pantheon but what about the others? People commonly refer to them as spirits or avatars but what _are_ they? There are some that believe they were once gods but lost their divinity. Are you familiar with Gertrude Robinson? She’s written extensively on the topic but she passed away recently. Many of her final volumes were never published but it’s said her former assistant is keeping them with him somewhere,” Jon explains. The guarded academic mask slips slightly to reveal eyes flashing and hands flying with excitement. He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s picked up the pace as he continues. “Since she had some ties to the Institute I thought this would be the best place to look and in the meantime, I get to explore the world myself. This creature that’s kidnapping people, I’m calling it the Anglerfish, doesn’t sound like anything known. Of course, it could just be the dubious nature of the accounts we were given, _but_ what if it was a spirit? Or avatar or whatever?”

“Unless it’s just the power of a place,” Tim replies with slightly more seriousness. “Power collects somewhere until it starts thinking for itself.”

This makes sense to Martin. The shipwreck he went to as a child had been around for as long as anyone could remember. Maybe it had just grown with the stories told about it until it became the Lonely Captain.

“Not even Smirke believed _solely_ in the nature of a place creating enough power to draw a spirit,” Jon responds. Sasha comes over and knocks shoulders with Martin.

“They do this a lot,” she assures Martin. “If you _really_ want to set them off, ask about Jurgen Leitner.”

“The evil wizard?” Martin asks.

“Smirke built his library,” she replies. “It’s a whole ridiculous thing with them.”

The hollow, foggy place inside Martin warms faintly at Tim and Jon’s passion as they continue on about places, spirits, and divinity for some time before apologizing for the tangent. Martin doesn’t understand the apology. If he were capable of such passion, he isn’t sure he’d ever stop talking.

“We need a pre-contract ritual,” Tim declares when they set up camp. Martin is becoming exhausted with the pretense of a heart but it wasn’t as if he could get annoyed.

“Like a song?” Jon asks cautiously.

“I don’t think we could match your voice,” Tim replies.

“I-I’m not much of a musical bard, anyway,” Jon huffs slightly.

“We could have a toast,” Sasha offers.

“I have some liquor on me,” Martin says.

“Hey...Martin likes to party,” Tim jokes.

“Er...my mentor warned me to have some on hand in case of emergencies,” Martin explains. “Something for the pain when you lose an arm to a bugbear.”

“Did your mentor lost his arm to a bugbear?” Jon asks.

“Yeah, he never talked about it much,” Martin replies. “I doubt it was a _fun_ memory to relive.”

The trek to the village goes on in much the same way. Tim and Sasha asking Martin questions about himself, the occasional discussion about the nature of spirits, and slowly Martin finds the rhythm in their camaraderie. The muffled part of him sits like a wall between Martin and the others but they all do their best to include him.

They make it to Fisher’s Close and Jon, despite being a bard, manages to insult the mayor to her face by insinuating that her reports of monsters in the market at night were most likely drunks exaggerating. Since all the reports happen when people are alone at night, that’s when they decide to strike. Martin, with his total lack of fear, volunteers himself as bait. Tim makes a joke about hazing the new guy and Sasha casts a spell to allow Martin to call for them from a distance.

The road is steep but it doesn’t cause Martin any problems. The fog reminds him of the wrecked ship and the Lonely Captain. Except this time he’s a fully grown man with a sword and not a terrified child with a poppet.

“Can I have a cigarette?” A voice calls. Martin turns to see some _thing_ standing limply just out of the direct light of the street lamp. It has a quality that almost reminds him of the Captain but everything about the thing is an _almost_ , it’s _almost_ in the correct proportion to be human, its hand _almost_ reaches out into the light, and its feet _almost_ touch the ground.

“Hello,” Martin calls. Reasoning that just because it’s bad at pretending to be human doesn’t mean it’s the reason people are going missing. Appearances can be deceiving.

“Can I have a cigarette?” it asks again.

“Guys, it’s a spirit,” Martin says. “It keeps asking for a cigarette but I don’t think it’s actually...aware?”

“Did you try offering it a cigarette?” Sasha asks.

“I don’t have any on me,” Martin replies.

“Can I have a cigarette?” the thing asks again.

Instead of a cigarette, Martin tries to offer it a match, and predictably as soon as his arm crosses into shadow it grabs for him. Its hand feels almost human but it’s unsettling enough that the muffled feeling of discomfort wells up in his empty chest. It doesn’t stop him from drawing his sword to swat the Anglerfish way.

Tim rushes out next. He brings his own flame wreathed sword high and cuts through the arm that had grabbed at Martin. The thing cries out in a way that isn’t at all human and makes to escape. It doesn’t run, it just draws back like a puppet on a string.

“Tim!” Sasha scolds.

“Sorry,” Tim sounds far more upset than Martin expects him to be. Although he isn’t the best judge of that sort of thing. “It...it was going to take Martin.”

“Ok,” she says quietly. Sasha grabs the back of Tim’s neck and pulls him close enough to rest their foreheads together. Jon comes out from where he’s hiding to share a look with Martin. What’s happening between Sasha and Tim is clearly private so Martin gestures Jon away.

“I’ve never seen Tim do something that reckless,” Jon says nervously. “Do you think the spirit could have…?”

“Getting de-limbed by a paladin doesn’t seem like something a spirit would _want_ ,” Martin replies. “What do we do now?”

Jon blinks in surprise. Like he was expecting Martin to linger longer on Tim but he doesn’t say anything.

“Er...If it’s a spirit Tim or someone else holy will have to perform rites to keep it away,” Jon replies. “Can I ask you a few questions about the Anglerfish?”


	3. The Party Finds Lovers in a Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin finds a foggy graveyard very familiar, gets some advice, and has some drinks with people who think of him as a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Graveyards

There’s something familiar about the grey eyes of the woman who comes in offering a new contract. It’s possible Martin is wrong and that Noami Hern’s eyes are that color naturally, she certainly seems to have more passion than he does.

“And you say you heard your fiance’s voice in this graveyard?” Jon asks.

“Yes,” she replies.

“Was this before or after the cart hit you?” Jon presses and Tim nudges him in a reprimand.

“I’m not insane,” she snaps. “This isn’t just grief or a concussion playing tricks on me.”

“No one is saying you are,” Sasha says calmly. “Jon is just trying to be thorough with the timeline.”

“He’s still out there,” Naomi replies. “I know it in my heart.”

“There’s a possibility something in the graveyard is just pretending to be him,” Sasha replies.

Naomi gives her a dark look.

“I think that’s all we need!” Tim says quickly. “We’ll investigate and get back to you as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” she says sharply and takes her leave.

“So what do we think it is?” Martin asks.

“I hope she’s right,” Tim says and Sasha makes a face.

“It could be anything from his soul calling out to her from the other side to an illusory prank pulled by his relatives,” Jon says. He’s right, the way Noami described her would-be in-laws made them sound strange at the very least.

They spend the day preparing for what is most likely a ghost and head to the graveyard in the evening. Tim and Sasha take the eastern part of the graveyard and Martin and Jon take the west to cover more ground.

“Why do all of these things only show up at night?” Martin asks. He remembers being afraid of the dark as a child but that fear is dead. Even the faint traces of it don’t call to him in the foggy corners of his chest.

“It’s rather hard to ambush the unwary in broad daylight,” Jon responds. “And I suppose it just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like in every scary story, it’s always a dark, stormy night. It just sort of...makes sense.”

Martin had met the Lonely Captain on a warm, sunny day that grew masked with supernatural fog.

“Are you saying certain things have a sense for theatrics?”

“I suppose, yes,” Jon smiles self-consciously. Martin is never sure when a silence is awkward. Plenty of people are desperate to fill awkward silences but he’s found that Jon is more than content to not speak for long stretches of time. It’s nice in that he doesn’t have to pretend to have a heart for things.

As they move through the graveyard, the fog grows thicker. Martin often wonders if he would be afraid of fog if he still had a heart. It certainly brought up memories of an unpleasant part of his life. The fog seems to be upsetting Jon, at least Jon was drawing ever closer to Martin while looking around nervously. Eventually, he leans down to whisper into Martin’s ear.

“Do you see that?” He asks pointing to a figure slightly off in the distance. Martin nods.

“What should we do?”

“I... think it would be good to have more people around,” Jon replies. When he says it Martin distantly feels a call of loneliness maybe that’s why Jon was nearly locking arms with him.

They walk up to the figure and it’s the ethereal form of a man. He looks lost and afraid.

“H-hello?” the foggy man calls. “H-have you seen a woman around here?”

“What are you?” Jon calls back.

“Please, Naomi...she’s... she was just here,” he pleads.

“Evan?” Martin asks slowly. “Naomi sent us here to look for you.”

“No, no she was _here_ tonight,” Evan responds. “I-if I don’t find her, they’ll...You have to help me find her.”

“H-how do we know you’re really Evan Lukas?” Jon asks, shivering. It isn’t cold and Martin wonders if the press of loneliness he feels in the space his heart isn’t is supernatural. Jon curling slightly closer seems to push it away, though.

“It doesn’t matter who I am!” Evan insists. “Naomi is in danger!”

“If you’re something pretending to be her fiance then helping you find her would put her in danger, too,” Martin replies calmly.

“How can I prove I’m really Evan Lukas to a couple of strangers?” Evan demands.

“This situation is indeed grave,” Jon snarks. Martin is pretty sure that was a joke and that this isn’t the best time to joke.

“What color are her eyes?” Martin asks. This feels too much like the shipwreck for Naomi’s grey eyes to be anything but a mark like the grey of Martin’s own eyes.

“What?” Evan responds. “She-she has green eyes.”

“No she-” Jon starts before Martin interrupts him.

“Were they green tonight?”

“They were grey tonight,” Evan responds. “Now will you help me before it takes her?”

Martin turns to Jon who in well into his personal bubble.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly because people don’t like to talk about the stakes of their hearts and Jon was the worst.

“I don’t trust him,” Jon responds. “What does it matter that he thinks her eyes are a different color?”

“I meant about this,” Martin responds gesturing to the proximity. 

“Oh, well this fog seems to have an isolating effect and I wanted to make sure _you’re_ alright,” Jon explains. Something stirs quietly in the muffled corners of Martin’s chest and presses the dim ache of loneliness out of his awareness. 

“Thank you.”

“Now what about the eyes?”

“Er...well,” Martin begins before hesitating. The real answer could get him in trouble with Jon and the others. “There was a little boy in my village growing up. He was born with warm brown eyes that people said reminded them of his father. One day, he went to a place that was spirit touched looking for help and when he came back he had grey eyes and white hair. People said he was spirit marked so I figure...”

“And you saw this person?” Jon confirms and Martin nods. “Alright, then. Since we have nothing left to go on...Can you show us where you last saw her?”

Evan leads them further into the cemetery until they come upon the form of Naomi Hern.

“He was here. He was right here,” she repeats to herself. It’s nearly impossible to see her under the fog but she looks solid.

“I’m here, my love,” Evan calls gently.

“Evan?” her voice is frantic. It almost reminds Martin of the strange echoing of the Lonely Captain’s voice. “E-Evan I knew you were here. I-I could feel it in my heart.”

Evan’s body shimmers into solidity for just a moment and in that moment Naomi grabs him. The fog gushes off of both of them with an intensity that strikes Martin squarely in the chest. He helps Jon to his feet. Naomi and Evan take a moment to get to their feet because they spend a quiet moment pressing kisses to each other’s lips and whispering what Martin assumes are reassurances.

Eventually, they head east to find the rest of their party. They find Tim and Sasha having defeated a few cultists who had been standing over an open grave that belched up the fog. Whatever power had set itself on Jon seems to have had an effect on their party members, but the burning glow of Tim’s prayer that grows to encapsulate all of them once he sees them seems to stave it off well enough. The empty part of Martin’s chest warms briefly as the fog dissipates from around them.

Evan explains that his parents were part of a cult and they disapproved of his marriage to Naomi so they summoned a spirit to split them up. Whatever it was had nearly killed him and his family had given him a funeral. 

Evan takes Martin to the side when the party drops him and Naomi off at home.

“How did it get you?” he asks gesturing to Martin’s grey eyes. Martin considers telling Evan but decides against it. He hadn’t proven himself trustworthy and just because the Empty Grave reminded him of the Lonely Captain didn’t mean they were connected.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Martin replies flatly. Evan gives him an incredulous look.

“Just keep those friends of yours close,” Evan says. “It’ll help.”

Tim convinces Jon and Sasha to come to the tavern to celebrate and Martin heeds Evan’s advice and tags along. Apparently, Martin’s immunity to the fog had impressed Jon. At least that’s what Sasha had told him to extrapolate from Jon saying he performed “admirably.”

“You have to admit it’s pretty romantic that she saved him from near-death,” Tim insists.

“Romance is a myth,” Sasha responds and Tim snorts into his drink. "You're right," Time replies with ale running down his nose. "I totally made it up just now. Pulled it right out of the spooky fog.”

“Good lord, does it have to be _spooky_?” Jon groans.

“What’s wrong with spooky?” Martin asks.

“It just sounds so...ridiculous,” Jon replies.

“You’re right,” Sasha nods. “Far too silly of a word.”


	4. The Party Fights Some Giant Spiders and Martin Meets Some Worms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Party investigates the spider take over of Vittery village, finds some Smirke architecture, and Martin is upset by a worm woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Fantasy-typical giant spiders  
> Brief injury  
> Canon-typical worms

Jon has no trouble making his distaste for the Vittery contract known. Even after Elias orders all four of them to go to Vittery Village to clear the place of spiders.

“All four of us don’t need to be clearing out a spider nest,” he grumbles, fingers tapping together. “I’m sure the evacuation of the _entire_ village was an overreaction and that there’s a perfectly logical explanation as to why the town hall was taken over. Perhaps it was built on a cave system.”

“Then it’ll be easy money,” Sasha shrugs. “Besides, it’s nice to get out of the city for a few days.”

“Too bad the spiders are _in_ the village,” Tim says. “It’d be much easier to just burn the whole thing down. Spiders are gross.”

“Giant ones, yeah, but normal-sized ones are good for the environment,” Martin replies. He doesn’t have any real opinions about spiders but when he was small and still had his heart he did. Jon makes a disgusted noise. 

“They can do so as far away from me as possible,” he huffs. “Take owlbears. They also fill a predatory niche but they don’t hang over people who are trying to sleep. Aside from the Owlbear War 289 years ago, they have never taken over a village and there are very few spirit sitings associated with them.”

“Yes, but you can’t crush an owlbear under a boot, either,” Sasha points out. “Didn’t humanoids lose the Owlbear War?”

“Well, yes, but that’s hardly the point!” Jon replies.

The town hall isn’t the only building in the village taken over by spider webs. The sheer number would be surprising for spiders in their natural habitat, let alone above ground like this. Sasha notes how lucky they are to have reached the village in daylight when all of the spiders are likely avoiding the sunlight inside and Jon recommends Tim’s earlier suggestion of burning the place to the ground. Much like the graveyard, they decide to split up into teams of two to clear out the houses before meeting together at the center of town.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” Jon reassures as they approach the first house. “There aren’t…...there can’t be more than one or two spiders here.”

“Stay behind me,” Martin replies because he knows who those reassurances are really for.

“Oh...of course,” Jon says. “You _are_ the melee fighter”

Before Martin opens the door Jon casts a spell and Martin feels himself get faster. It’s a good thing because as soon as he walks into the door something large and hairy drops on top of him. He throws the thing off of him and into someone’s poor table before drawing his sword and making quick work of it. When he turns back to look at Jon all the color has drained from his face and as soon as he catches Martin looking at him he tries to school his expression.

“Good work, Martin,” he says quickly. “Shall we check upstairs or downstairs next?”

“Let’s work top to bottom?”

There are no more spiders in the house and clearing out the other six houses on their half of the village isn’t difficult. At least it isn’t difficult for Martin whose chest is full of fog. Jon is clearly terrified of spiders but refuses to say anything about it. What stirs the fog inside of him is a moment in the fourth house when a spider has Martin pinned to the ground and Jon impulsively draws his dagger to hack at the spider over him. Bravery for the sake of someone else meant something and Jon was brave for him.

Tim and Sasha are waiting for them in front of the town hall. None of them have more than a few scrapes and bruises

“What’s the score?” Tim calls when he sees them.

“Um...we got nine,” Martin replies. “Looks like everyone got out of town in time, too. All we found were a couple of dead mice.”

“I mean between the two of you,” Tim says. “Sash got five and I’m at four of the leggy bastards. How did you two do?”

“We’re too mature for that nonsense,” Jon scoffs.

“Jon got four and I got five,” Martin says.

“We can’t let them beat us, Jon,” Tim sighs dramatically, draping himself over Jon’s shoulders. “What are we gonna _do_?”

“Be better at our jobs I suppose,” Jon deadpans and Sasha laughs. Jon seems to relax slightly with everyone around him and Martin finds himself relaxing as well.

All the windows of the townhall are covered over in spider web but they elect to break one when they find the door impassible. Tim goes in first, his shield bashing through the glass and his sword hacking a path through the webs. Martin knocks the remaining glass out of the pane before climbing in after him. The two of them are faced with two medium sizes spiders scuttling down after them. Martin bashes the one nearest to him with his shield and stabs it through the mouth while Tim bisects his with his glowing blade. Martin stands with his back to Tim while he helps the others into the town hall.

They make their way through the townhall with Tim and Martin hacking away at the webs. A few more spiders come down to find out why their web is being disturbed but Sasha blasts them down quickly enough. First, they head into the mayor’s office and find the sole humanoid victim of the Vittery spiders. It’s the body of what they assume is the mayor himself totally encased in web.

“So...that’s probably an egg sac, right?” Tim asks carefully, gesturing to the corpse.

“I don’t know but it’s best not to chance it,” Sasha replies. “Jon, do you have something other than fire?”

“Er...yes.”

Jon begins chanting rhythmically in some unknown language and the temperature of the room drops quickly as the webby body is further encased in ice. Small baby spiders can be seen trying to escape only to freeze in the radius of Jon’s spell. After that, they briefly search the office only to find nothing of import before heading into the cellar.

There are more spiders to hack and blast once they head down but the real points of interest are the mark of Smirke on one of the support beams and the cave entrance guarded by the largest of the spiders. The thing takes Tim by surprise and wrenches his leg in the wrong direction. Sasha casts a spell that sets the thing thrashing violently in confusion so Martin can finish it off. Martin turns to see Jon ushering Tim to sit on a nearby crate.

“I’ve got it, thanks mate,” Tim assures as he sits down and begins praying to his Lady. Blue flame ignites over Tim’s knee and lower thigh as his body mends.

“That should be the last of them,” Jon says. “All that’s left is to close off the cave system.”

“I’ll go do it,” Martin volunteers. Jon especially protests but it’s decided that the narrowness of the caves would make it difficult for anyone to back Martin up, anyway. Martin takes the bombs into the tunnels to find a good spot to cause a cave-in. He’s barely out of sight of his friends when he hears a quiet song echoing along the tunnels. If someone had foolishly run into the tunnels to hide from the spiders, then they would be trapped if Martin collapsed the tunnel but as he walks closer to its source he realizes the song isn’t human. There are fewer and fewer spider webs and more and more worms. At first, they ignore Martin and he ignores them but as he draws closer they begin attacking him. They aren’t strong enough to pierce his armor but they grow ever larger as he goes deeper. The song itself sings of promised love. It promises love and belonging in a thousand voices as Martin comes upon the spirit making the song.

Whatever it is, it appears as a woman in red with worms seeping out of her. She reaches out for Martin and the fog in him _writhes_. For the first time in a very long time he _wants_. He feels the absence of love in himself. He feels the foggy wall between himself and his friends. This spirit seemed to be offering his heart back but it felt wrong. Warped and corrupted in some way.

He turns to leave and the worms attack him more earnestly now. Jon would be interested in these spirit worms so Martin grabs a handful of dead ones to bring back with him before returning to a fork in the tunnel that would block off both the spiders and the worms. He makes it out of the tunnels and nearly crashes into Jon.

“Martin!” Jon shouts in surprise. “What took so long we were- Are you alright?”

Martin blinks and realizes he’s still crying.

“There...there was a spirit in the tunnel,” Martin pants. “She attacked me with these worms and she sang at me. I brought these worms so you could...I don’t know, examine them?”

“Oh,” Jon gasps softly. “I knew we shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

Jon pats Martin’s shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort and Martin consciously relaxes slightly. Although he is still definitely crying because once Sasha puts the worm carcasses into an empty bottle Tim crushes him into a hug. The hollow of his chest swirls and his cheeks get wetter.


	5. The Party Meets Some New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Party celebrates a job well done and run into some friends of Jon. Meanwhile, Tim tries to reassure Martin and Martin gets an unfortunate nighttime visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Brief mention of alcohol  
> Canon typical worms

Martin doesn’t tell his party members everything about the Worm Woman because doing so would require him to explain his heartlessness. He wasn’t about to risk his job for Jon’s curiosity. Sasha’s investigation of the worms revealed that they were of no known species which at the very least backed up Martin’s story of it being a spirit of some kind. Tim is far more interested in the fact that Robert Smirke apparently designed a building that hadn’t been attributed to him and was associated with at least one spirit.

“The man wasn’t just prolific he was _proud_ ,” Tim insists in the tavern they stop in to celebrate a completed contract. “We have a record of hundreds of buildings he designed and none of them were even built in the area of Vittery Village.”

“It’s possible it was an early work?” Sasha asks. “Or that the beams were taken from something else he did?”

“I mean, yeah,” Tim admits. “It’s just frustrating, you know? Every time I think I get the connection between Smirke and whatever spirits, something throws me off.”

“He had students, you know,” Jon says off-hand. “Perhaps someone just copied his style? Anyway, I’m far more interested in this Worm Woman. I think when we get back to the Institute we should look for records of anything similar appearing in previous contracts.”

They sit in the tavern talking for a while before a large panther pads over to Jon, rests its head in his lap, and purrs so loudly the table shakes. Jon rests scritches behind its ears and looks around for someone.

“Hello Admiral,” he says. “Where’s Georgie?”

“Fancy seeing you here, Jon,” a woman with stark black eyes answers. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends?”

“Oh, um,” Jon responds, looking to the woman, then just past her. “Martin, Sasha, Tim, this is Georgie, the Admiral,... and Melanie.”

“Hey!” The woman Martin assumes is Melanie says from behind Georgie. “I was trying to sneak up on you.”

“If it helps, I didn’t see you,” Sasha says as she extends a hand to Melanie and Georgie.

“Pull up a chair,” Tim says. “Any friends of Jon are friends of ours.”

“Oh, Jon and I aren’t friends,” Melanie says easily as she slides into a chair next to Sasha. “We’ve been bitter rivals since I stole Georgie from him.”

“Oh yes,” Jon deadpans. “The bitterest of rivals after Georgie started dating her three years after we broke up.”

“Is the panther _also_ part of the rivalry?” Martin asks as he scoots his chair to make room for the new people at the table.

“The Admiral is above such things,” Georgie replies seriously. The cat in question seems to have had his fill of Jon pets and with Martin’s lap being slightly more accessible goes after him instead. He does what animals often do to Martin since he lost his heart; he puts his paws on Martin’s lap, presses his face into Martin’s chest, and purrs like doing so could bring his heart back. Young Martin always liked animals so even without his heart adult Martin does his best to stroke the Admiral the way Jon had.

“So Melanie, are you really rivals?” Sasha asks.

“Oh yeah,” Melanie replies. “It’s not because of Georgie, though. It’s because Jon is objectively wrong about the best type of clouds.”

“ _I’m_ wrong,” Jon gasps in an offended tone but his expression tells everyone at the table that he’s having fun. “I think you’ll find that the easiest clouds to see images in are cumulus.”

“Oh, sure,” she responds. “If all you want to see are cotton balls.”

Jon and Melanie go on that way for a while with various interjections from the others. The Admiral is very firm about loving on Martin and this seems to please Jon for whatever reason. Martin is buzzed enough and tired enough that he gives in to his lack of desire to engage in the conversation. He wonders absently about Georgie. It’s not that something seems off about her but he gets the sense that her eyes might be unnaturally black in the same way his are unnaturally grey. Given people’s general reactions to those who are spirit-touched, he decides not to press it with her.

When it’s time for the six of them to head home they walk together for a while. Jon and Melanie are still arguing about something silly and Sasha seems to be having fun by egging them on. Tim draws back to talk to Martin away from everyone else.

“Hey Martin, you alight?” He asks. “What said about the Worm Woman offering a place where you belong...You know you belong with us, right?”

“I’m fine Tim, thank you.”

“You just get so quiet sometimes and I want you to know we do like it when you speak up. You’re a good guy.”

“I just don’t like to talk a lot,” Martin responds. Not technically a lie since he’s incapable of liking anything.

“Just wanted to make sure you know you can. To any of us.”

“Thank you, Tim, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” Tim says clapping him on the back. “Us melee buddies have to stick together.”

The fog swirls in Martin’s chest. He wonders what this feels like. The simple comradery that the others seem to share must feel nice.

Martin lies in bed that night thinking about all of them. He thinks about Jon’s whole body vibrating with passion, Sasha’s quick wit and knowing glances, and Tim’s warm friendliness. He thinks about how their actions show their concern for him and how they’re the first people he’s mattered to since his mentor died. Except Algernon knew Martin didn’t have a heart. He helped Martin fake one and _that_ was what everyone liked. There was no telling how they would respond if they knew the truth.

He’s almost asleep when he hears a knocking on his door. It’s early morning enough that if someone is knocking it’s likely an emergency so he gets up, puts on enough clothes to be decent, and answers it.

It’s shocking, really, that he somehow failed to hear the song until he opened the door but he doesn’t until he feels the festering growing in his chest and the tears pouring down his face. _The worms don’t care he doesn’t have a heart. The worms will give him a heart. The worms will **be** his heart._ He slams the door against the Worm Woman and goes back to grab at least his sword before returning to the door. However, when he does she’s gone and the only traces of her are a few seething worms. Martin tries to search his building for any further trace of the spirit but it’s a difficult task unless he wants to wake his neighbors. Thankfully he doesn’t find or hear anything, so he just puts the worms into an empty jar to bring to the Institute in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melanie is a rogue because I love Sasha Rackett too much


	6. Martin Tells Everyone About His Worm Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin comes into work early and finds Jon, he tells his friends about his rough childhood, experiences one (1) emotion, and Sasha snoops around Martin's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Child abandonment

Martin’s body is too full of adrenaline to sleep so he lies in bed until the sun comes up before heading to the Institute. He doesn’t expect anyone else to be there yet, especially after the late night, but he can try to look into other instances of people being followed by spirits while he’s there. First, he goes into Jon’s office to drop off the worms. He doesn’t expect to see Jon already in his office.

“Good lord,” Jon shouts. “Martin? Are you alright? You look...Where did those worms come from?”

“Sorry, I did expect you here this early,” Martin replies.

“That’s fine, Martin. What about those worms?”

“Oh...uh… The Worm Woman visited me last night. I don’t think any of my neighbors saw her but she left these. I figured you would want to see them so-”

“A spirit followed you home?”

“Yeah, I was gonna look into it before you got here but...Well, you’re already here.”

“I’d like to record this incident first if you don’t mind.”

Martin tells Jon what happened, carefully avoiding anything that would give away his missing heart. Jon’s eyebrows knit considerably during the tale as his enchanted parchment records the story.

“I keep a cot in one of the back rooms for when I pull an especially late night and I want you to use it,” Jon says as soon as he’s happy with the details. “The Institute is warded against all kinds of things including spirits, so if you’d like I can make arrangements with Elias for you to stay here until we figure out a more permanent solution.”

“Oh, well...um,” Martin responds. He’s far too tired to say anything intelligent or “heart”-felt at Jon’s response to him being in danger. It doesn’t help that the fog inside him isn’t so much swirling as it is billowing. Jon takes this as an agreement as he shows Martin to a reasonably sized mattress on the floor of one of the back rooms.

“There you are,” Jon says.

“Thanks. Could you wake me up when Tim and Sasha get in?”

“Hopefully I’ll have something for you by then,” Jon replies. “Sleep well, Martin.”

Martin wakes up sometime later to Jon tentatively nudging his shoulder and calling his name.

“Good...afternoon?” Martin asks tentatively as he turns to Jon.

“Afternoon would be appropriate. The others are in now and I believe I found something although I don’t know how much use it will be to us,” Jon says as he leads Martin back into the Archive. He’s clearly excited about this new mystery; Martin can see it in how alive his body is with movement. “Some time ago a man called Timothy Hodge took a young lady home for the evening only for her to explode into worms. Sasha and our Tim actually got into a bit of trouble with that contract because Tim decided to give Mr. Hodge’s house to his Lady. What’s more, no one can find him since he put in the contact.”

“Do you think his Worm Woman and my Worm Woman are the same thing?”

“It’s very likely,” Jon replies.

Once they make it into the Archive proper Martin sees Sasha directing Tim in getting a box down. Sasha waves to Martin. As soon as Tim sees Martin, he puts the box down, and comes over to give Martin a warm bone-crushing hug.

“Jon told us what happened,” Sasha explains as Tim lets go. “Spirits don’t usually follow people home unless they’re tied to some object. Are you sure you didn’t take anything home from the village?”

“Not unless you count the worms, but you have those,” Martin responds. “Jon said something about a Timothy Hodge?”

“Yeah, his one night stand turned into a worm monster,” Tim replies. “But he made it sound like she was a normal person when he brought her home and I don’t think he found her in a cave. We also roasted that thing.”

“Yes, but it’s the only recent case of someone bringing something that may have been a spirit from one location to another,” Jon points out. “Unless the bear Sasha chased off that farm last week was a spirit.”

“Actually,” Sasha says. “There is a record of the spirit that claimed to be the war itself during the Great War. Maybe something about Martin draws the Worm Woman the way battlefields drew ‘the War.’ Martin, do you feel disconnected from people? Or a community? From the way you described the woman’s song, it sounds like that’s what she’s offering you.”

Martin considers his answer carefully. On the one hand, it’s very unlikely that knowing what draws this spirit to Martin will help them get rid of it. However, the whole Institute is connected to the god of knowledge. A god that all three of his party members had some connection to and that would make it difficult to just avoid giving them information. On top of that, they were all worried about him. Tim had been the most outspoken about it last night but Jon had been pretty upset this morning and Sasha’s face was a mask of worry. He decides to be selectively honest with them.

“Both of my parents left me,” Martin says. “Dad when I was about 8 after mum got sick. Mum left after she was miraculously cured when I was 11. Most of the town turned me away, too. They probably assumed something wrong with me. I was on my own for three months before Algernon took me in.”

Martin feels the tears welling up in his eyes again. He feels no emotional connection to them and as he says the words they come out detached. Tim’s jaw clenches as Martin speaks. He isn’t the first person to be angry on Martin’s behalf. In fact, he isn’t even the only one in the room who is utterly offended on his behalf. Algernon would be happy he found people like them. Thinking of Algernon made the tears flow faster.

“Martin, I’m so sorry,” Sasha speaks first. She offers him a handkerchief.

“They...you were a _child_ and, and…,” Jon tries before growling in indignation.

“Well, _we_ want you around, Martin,” Tim says cheerily. He puts a warm hand over Martin’s shoulder, all of his righteous anger replaced with easy affection.

“Of course we do!” Jon assures. “And...and there’s no chance in all the Hells that we’re about to let some lesser spirit harass you.”

There’s a warmth in the fog. For one instant he _feels_. Not long enough to process what the emotion even is but it feels like a real one. Not a corrupted one borne of worm song but his own heart jolting. He doesn’t know what this could mean. He doesn’t even have the power to hope this means his heart is growing back.

After assuring his friends that he’s only crying because he’s tired, Martin brings Sasha as back up to take things he’ll need from his flat.

“I’m sorry about asking that, Martin,” she says as they walk away from the Institute. “I know I get a bit thoughtless in my pursuit of knowledge sometimes.”

“It’s alright,” Martin responds. It’s probably better than alright. It was the first time in years that he felt any real emotion.

“Just remember, if I ask about something you don’t want to talk about, you can tell me off. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll remember that, thank you.”

Martin picks up all of his more personal items while Sasha acts as both look-out and snoop. He can hear her clinking around in his kitchen while he packs up his clothes and things. When he comes out she’s holding two jars of preserved peaches.

“Martin, why do you have so many preserved peaches?” She asks.

“Well, we aren’t exactly in the city enough to keep anything fresh around,” Martin responds. “Besides, I like peaches.”

At least, his tastebuds like peaches. He supposes that’s the same thing in his case. It’s not as if he has emotional ties to any food anymore but he can taste things. Peaches taste good and burnt bread doesn’t.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Sasha nods. “Is that also why you don’t have many books?”

“Uh...yeah,” Martin replies. Young Martin loved to read. He even wrote little poems sometimes. Now he felt no joy in it. Even though Algernon had made sure he could read both common and Elvish, he rarely read unless he was required. Sasha didn’t need to know that.

“If you ever need a few book recommendations, let me know,” Sasha says. She loops her arm in his as they walk back to the Institute. “I swear I wasn’t _just_ snooping on your things. There wasn’t anything magical in your flat. Although one of your neighbors has a magic item of some sort, it was the right school some kind of protection charm. I don’t think it matters. There were some scuff marks outside your door but they match your dining table so I don’t think those were relevant, either.”

“I could find anything other than those worms this morning. I doubt those are any more help than the other ones.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Sasha sighs. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out together.”


	7. The Party Fights the Boneturner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being stalked, Martin and co. set out to escort a librarian but the librarian has a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW  
> Violence and Injury

Elias is predictably less than thrilled to have Martin living in the Institute while they look into the Worm Woman. At least that’s what Martin, Sasha, and Tim surmise when Jon comes back from meeting with him muttering to himself. Still, Elias is letting Martin stay when they aren’t out on a contract. No one is excited about potentially meeting this Worm Woman out on the road but they did sign contracts with the Institute so, when they have another contract that requires all four of them, they go with only minor grumbling.

The weather is amicable as they walk. Sasha is explaining the nature of a new spell she’s working on while Tim makes the occasional remark that has her break out laughing. Usually, times like this make Martin sharply aware of the fog that separates him from others, but Tim and Sasha always behave live two halves of the same whole. It makes Martin wonder what that’s like, to not only have a heart but to have it be so in sync with someone else’s. Jon settles quietly next to Martin, seemingly content to leave the silence hang for a while. Eventually, he strikes up a conversation.

“Martin, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Jon.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“What?”

“Well, on every contract so far you’ve seemed utterly nonplussed by whatever we’re facing. I...I admire that about you. Even with the Worm Woman, you seemed...I don’t know, more upset than afraid and now she’s stalking you. You don’t seem very bothered by it.”

The truth was Martin couldn’t feel fear. He hadn’t in a very long time but he still had a sense of danger. It was...strange to know objectively that something might kill him in the same way he knows objectively that the sky was blue. Algernon had taught him how to hone his instincts. Briefly, he wonders if what he felt the other day had been fear but he discounts it. There wasn’t any danger in his friends comforting him.

“I just…” Martin starts. “I try not to think about it, I guess.”

“Oh,” Jon replies. He clearly doesn’t particularly like the answer. “It must be more than that! You make it sound like you’re not smart enough to know to _be_ afraid but that’s hardly the case. I believe I’m familiar enough with tactics and survival to know that your miles ahead of all of us in those areas.”

“Thank you,” Martin replies. He’s pretty sure he would blush at the compliment if he had a heart and the fog inside him swirls just a little. “I just meant that I focus on the things that make me want to be brave instead of what I’m afraid of.”

That was true of younger Martin, so it would be true if adult Martin still had a heart. Jon seems more satisfied with that answer, anyway.

“I suppose my talking about what you’re afraid of doesn’t help, then,” he says.

“You’re curious,” Martin observes. “I don’t mind. Have you noticed how many of our contracts have had to do with spirits? I always thought they were super rare, but apparently not.”

“They’re supposed to be,” Jon replies. Martin can see the passion in him vibrate its way out and the fog shifts. “I’ve been looking through the Archive and at least one in every five contracts has a spirit involved. Not the usual ghosts or bandits. Even if many of them start as a simple escort, often the reports of the individuals doing the escort will make mention of something strange happening. I’ve been trying to convince Elias to let me re-arrange the Archive to separate them from the run-of-the-mill redcaps in the cabbage patch records but you know how he is. ‘The purpose of the Archive is to hold a chronological record. Not follow whatever taxonomy strikes the modern fancy.’ As if records of mysterious spirits outside the powers of the gods don’t go back an age!”

“If it’s that many contracts, wouldn’t it be easier to separate out the owlbears and bandits from the Anglerfish?”

“Well...Yes, that would make more sense. Unfortunately, Elias still won’t let us do it,” Jon sighs in frustration. “Besides, we don’t have time to go through that many files. I’ve only had time to grab a selection to get an idea of how many contracts were connected to spirits and most of that was done after hours. If I wanted to start re-arranging selves it would keep you up all night and I’m certainly not going to make you help me. You’re already stuck living there; I won’t demand free labor from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Martin says truthfully.

“Oh, well...it still wouldn’t fair to you.”

They lapse into silence for a while after that. A few more conversations are struck up and die down before Martin notices something has changed about the party. It’s subtle enough that he doesn’t notice at first but eventually he realizes that at no point is he standing single file on the road. Normally it’s not uncommon for the three others to walk behind Martin as he lets the fog lapse between them and on wide roads sometimes Jon or Sasha will drift away on their own but now that isn’t happening. He thinks about what they all said about belonging with them and the fog in his chest swirls more.

Their contract is relatively straight forward: escort a librarian named Sebastian Adekoya from the village he had been studying in back into the city. After the week journey of no Worm Woman, they agree it’s even safe enough to escort him. Sebastian is a nervous man and brings a cart with him to carry a number of books. Sasha in particular is interested in his collection and she prompts him to talk about _most_ of his books. Some of them are mundane books about relatively mundane things but there are a few spellbooks in the mix.

One particular book catches Sasha’s eye. It’s a thick, black book titled _The Boneturner’s Tale_.

“Sebastian, what’s this one about?” Sasha asks.

“Which one? Oh, I don’t recognize it,” he responds.

“Aren’t these all your books?” She asks back. As she does so, she opens to the title page and her face falls. Carefully, she reaches for Jon’s elbow to draw his attention to whatever she sees. Jon looks at her with surprise and worry.

“I’m taking a few books back to the city for an acquaintance,” Sebastian replies. His eyes keep shifting from the book to Jon and Sasha. It’s possible he’s just nervous at their expressions but Martin puts a hand on his sword hilt, anyway. “Is something wrong with one of them?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just that this one is from the library of Jurgen Leitner,” Sasha says in mock pleasantness. At this, Tim also readies himself for the possibility of combat.

“I...Look, I didn’t….A-a former friend of mine, Jared Hopworth, had it,” Sebastian tries to explain. “Someone gave it to me to return, then Jared stole it off me, and-and I had to get it back. You know what those kinds of books can do in the wrong hands! So I-I stole it back from him. I was hoping to get it destroyed in one of the big temples in the city.”

“You didn’t think it might be a good idea to give your escorts a little heads up?” Tim asks irritably. Martin notes the hypocrisy of not giving someone a heads up but he keeps it to himself. Besides, Sebastian didn’t seem like the type to know a lot of magic that would be practical in combat so whatever came after them would be on Martin, Sasha, Jon, and Tim.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Sebastian replies. “But I needed to get out as soon as possible; he’d be after me.”

“Nothing we can do about it, now,” Sasha sighs. “If your old friend _does_ come after us, is there anything we should know?”

“The book did something to him,” Sebastian explains. “H-he got taller but he couldn’t move right anymore and his fingers were pointed as though something was pushing the skin from inside.”

“Like his bones were turned?” Tim offers.

“I suppose you could call it that, yeah.”

Throughout the whole conversation, Jon stands stock still. He stares at the Leitner in Sasha’s hands with an expression not dissimilar from the one he had going up against the spiders. When he catches Martin looking at him, his expression becomes much sterner and he clears his throat.

“I don’t suppose you know any more about the nature of the book?” Jon asks in his most academic voice.

“I haven’t tested it out or anything,” Sebastian responds defensively. “The bloke who wanted me to return it gave me a few other books but none of them appear to be very special. You can look at them if you like.”

“Did this man have a name or any identifying features?” Jon presses.

“He had a lightning-shaped tattoo or scar, and I have the rental slip he gave me,” he says. He hands Jon a piece of paper out of his bag. Jon studies it and hands it back to him.

“We can add Michael Crew to the list of people possibly connected with Leitner,” Jon tells no one in particular.

The tension brought about by the discovery of the Leitner doesn’t really subside as far as Martin can tell. Even by the time they pick a place to rest for the night, so Sebastian decides to sleep in his cart.

“Why, Ms. James! Putting our bedrolls so close,” Tim says dramatically as Sasha rolls her bedroll near his like she does every night. “Think of the _scandle_.”

“I guess you’ll have to keep your sword between us,” Sasha laughs. “For your _virtue_.”

“Can you two believe this?” Tim continues, scandalized.

“Perhaps you haven’t made your point well enough,” Jon deadpans. Puns aren’t too hard for Martin.

“C’mon, Jon,” Martin tries. “Sasha is sharp.”

Jon smiles at him and Sasha snorts. Martin takes the first watch of the night and it begins to pass smoothly enough. Sebastian snores quietly in his cart, Sasha is curled around Tim, and Jon is huddled with his back to Martin. He hears a few small noises first. Likely just a rabbit or a fox. Then he hears a branch snap. It’s not enough to wake the party but it does make him stand to walk the perimeter of the camp. Something very large moves in the shadows beyond the firelight. That’s enough to wake his party but as he moves backward a voice that could only be described as dripping speaks.

“Wait,” the voice says. “I’m just here for my book and my old chum, Seb. Not looking for any trouble.”

As he speaks he moves closer. Close enough that Martin can see the faint outline of Jared Hopworth. He’s massive and Martin is certain he won’t be able to take him on his own. Carefully, he moves back enough to nudge Tim (and Sasha by proxy) awake with his boot. They both get up quickly.

“What the fuck?” Tim asks when he sees what Martin got him and Sasha up for.

“C’mon,” Jared sighs. “Just give me my book back and I’ll take Seb off your hands. This doesn’t have to get rough.”

Jared steps closer in an attempt to intimidate that might have worked on someone more connected to their fear and Martin draws his sword. The Boneturner takes this as an invitation to try and grab at Martin. He sidesteps the too-big hands and brings his sword down on the place that _should_ have been Jared’s elbow but instead of the give of cartilage, he’s met with hard bone that deflects his blade once he cuts through the flesh of Jared’s arm. Jared raises his arm to ostensibly try to hit Martin again but Sasha casts a spell and it causes Jared to miss Martin by nearly six feet.

“Maybe instead of a book what you need is glasses,” Tim says as he steps up next to Martin. He brings his glowing holy blade down into the fleshy space between Jared’s shoulder and his neck. Just like with Martin, Tim’s blade deflects, but it’s accompanied by a flash of bright light and a cry of pain from Jared who staggers back even as Tim steadies himself from the unexpected push-back of Jared’s strange anatomy. Jared again lunges at either Tim or Martin but with the effect of Sasha’s spell still on him he just manages to lunge directly into the fire. Jon chants something and Martin feels himself hasten. He lands two quick blows while Jared tries to stand up from where he landed. This time Martin is prepared to meet bone in surprising places and his blows are glancing. Jon chants something else and suddenly blood begins pouring out of Jared’s nose and Sasha holds up her arcane focus to cast a spell that seems to terrify Jared into running back into the woods.

Even with Jared temporarily scared off they decide to wake the horses and ride through the night into the city. Sebastian is deeply apologetic and offers to pay for whatever healing any of them require. Jon and Sasha are completely fine if a bit tired, but Martin finds that his wrist has stopped bending properly and his fingers are stuck like they’re still grabbing his sword.

“Tim, is your sword hand bending funny?” Martin asks as they ride on the dark road. Tim laughs but when he tries to gesture with his hand his wrist bends the wrong way.

“Boneturner stopped us from turning out bones,” Tim sighs. He takes Martin’s hand and allows holy blue fire to bloom over both of their hands. It’s hot but not painfully so and soon Martin’s bones and joints move the way they’re supposed to. Whenever Tim heals him Martin feels the fog in him settle and he almost feels _calm_. He sort of wonders if that’s a Tim thing or a paladin thing although he suspects the latter.


	8. The Party Does Some Investigating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie and Melanie are back, the Admiral is trying to purr the Lonely into submission, Georgie finds out about Martin's heart, and Jon continues having a bad sleep schedule.

Once they return to the city, Jon contacts Georgie and Melanie. According to him, they’re experts in the field of spirits and might be able to properly deal with the Worm Woman who has been leaving enough of her spawn outside the Institute to convince Elias it’s a serious problem.

The Admiral disagrees. He seems to be having a whale of a time catching the worms and Georgie nearly has to scruff him to get him inside. Jon and Sasha show their notes to Melanie (Jon does so slightly more forcefully when Melanie makes a good-natured jab at his research methods) while Georgie takes Martin to one side.

“I’m not generally a magic person,” she says while the Admiral once again crowds into Martin’s space. “I did learn a useful trick for getting a better idea of what kind of spirit has attached itself to a person; if you let me.”

“What if you find _multiple_ spirits are attached to me?” Martin asks. He had only met Georgie once before this but he got the impression she was a seeker of knowledge like the others. More than that, if she believed the condition of Martin’s heart was potentially dangerous then she would certainly tell everyone. At best they would all feel betrayed that he was pretending to be their friend and have him fired. At worst...he doesn’t want to think about it.

“Is that something you’re worried about? Martin, do you have any pre-existing spooky conditions?” Georgie asks in mock-seriousness.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone unless it’s _absolutely necessary_.”

“If I think whatever it is could hurt you or someone else, then they’ll want to know,” Georgie warns. That was...new. Generally, people were only concerned about themselves in reference to Martin’s white hair, grey eyes, and empty chest. His mentor had been the last person who wanted Martin to be able to keep himself safe.

“I don’t have a heart,” Martin replies. Georgie looks surprised. “When I was eleven I gave it to a spirit in exchange for a cure for my mother and now I don’t feel emotion. Mum abandoned me so put one up for not being able to feel that, I suppose.”

“I sold my fear,” she says and takes his hand “I wanted to be fearless to protect my best friend and she died anyway. I have the Admiral around partly so he can sense the danger for me. Since you’re still alive I assume whatever you’re doing is working but I think everyone else has a right to know.”

“I’ll tell them. Just...not right now, ok?”

Georgie gives him a look he can’t quite read but nods before pulling out an amulet and beginning an incantation. All at once, the fog swirls inside of Martin, and the song of belonging echos in his ears. He’s certain something about this situation is dangerous but he can’t tell what until the room spins and Georgie has to help him into a sitting position. The Admiral takes this as an opportunity to lay down on top of him and continue trying to purr his heart back.

“Well, I get the sense your Worm Woman’s very close,” Georgie sighs. “I don’t think you need to prepare for a siege on the Institute quite yet but I wouldn’t leave if I were you.”

“Ok, thank you. Can I ask you a question? It might be a bit personal.”

“You can ask and if I don’t like it, then I just won’t answer.”

“Have you ever felt fear, anyway?” Martin asks and Georgie looks at him with confusion. “The other day,, I’m sure I felt _something_. It was super brief, but since you have a sort of similar experience, maybe we could compare notes?”

“I haven’t, no,” Georgie replies slowly. “Are you sure the thing took your _entire_ heart?”

“All I know is an old sea captain made of mist poofed into me and then I couldn’t feel. I still cry sometimes, too, but I don’t feel anything behind it.”

Georgie makes a thoughtful noise.

“You should definitely talk to a cleric or something about this,” she says finally.

They go back to the others to find Melanie excitedly explaining her own take on the nature of spirits to Tim and Sasha while Jon poorly feigns disinterest.

“...it’s not that they’re tied to specific objects or places,” she explains. “It’s that certain places, objects, and people are tied to _them_. They’re the ones that inspired people like Smirke or Leitner to make things.”

“So what drew the spirits to them?” Sasha asks.

“I don’t know,” Melanie admits.

“They probably just went looking,” Tim says. “It sure seemed like Smirke was bent on redefining the Material Plane when he just happened on some inexplicable things from the farthest realms. _Leitner_...”

“Leitner was a madman,” Jon finishes. “But enough people stumble on these things accidentally that _looking_ can’t be the only factor.”

“Sure,” Melanie replies. “People can probably do loads of things to attract spirits without realizing it. Like Martin and the Worm Woman. She probably showed up because people were losing their homes and then Martin came in with some personal stuff that she decided she liked.”

“Do you think they used to be people? The more corporeal spirits, I mean?” Martin asks to announce his and Georgie’s return.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Melanie sighs dramatically. “I think our grumpy bard is bang-on. Spirits _were_ gods or near-gods. The things we see like the Worm Woman are just their avatars on the Material Plane.”

“Oh good,” Sasha laughs. “We’re just facing a warlock with poor taste in partons.”

“Hail the Worm Queen,” Tim drones.

That evening, after they collectively decide to investigate the best possible methods of worm murder everyone but Jon and Martin go home. Martin warns Jon to leave soon before going to bed. He dreams the same foggy dream he always dreams. He stands on a beach shore as fog rolls over and numbs him. Sometimes he wonders if this is a nightmare. There isn’t anything dangerous in the fog but he knows the fog itself is the danger, insidiously curling up in him so he can never reach out for people.

When he wakes up he’s certain this one was a nightmare. His body is in a cold sweat and his mouth feels particularly dry. Of course, he doesn’t _feel_ upset or afraid but that’s not new. So he lights a candle and heads out to get some water from the kitchen. On his way he sees light coming from Jon’s office. It’s the wrong color to be candlelight so Martin is certain Jon is still inside. He knocks on the door first and when he receives no answer he opens the door anyway. Jon had indeed cast a light spell but the man himself was fast asleep. He’s laying with his face across one of his arms, skewing his glasses slightly, and his normally loose bun has half fallen out over the rest of his face.

Martin feels something again. It bubbles up gently to the surface of his consciousness and lingers long enough for him to recognize it. It’s fondness for Jon lightly dozing on his desk. Almost as soon as he recognizes the feeling icy fog floods his chest and muffles the feeling again. He can’t even feel frustration.

Carefully, Martin steps into the room and lightly touches Jon’s shoulder to wake him up. Jon jumps slightly before blinking up at him.

“Mhm...Martin?” He slurs sleepily. “Is it morning already?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Jon. What happened to you going home?”

“I was just getting some last-minute work done and time got away from me,” Jon explains. As he moves, Martin notices the ink smear over Jon’s left cheek and he wonders if that would make him feel fond, too.

“No use leaving,” Jon continues. “I’ll just work through the night.”

“...or you could join me on your mattress,” Martin responds. Jon blinks at him owlishly.

“Oh, I-I wouldn’t want to impose. Besides, I don’t usually sleep much anyway.”

“Jon, it’s _your_ mattress. Even if you don’t sleep, you should lay down for a bit instead of passing out at your desk.”

Jon opens his mouth to protest but Martin stands firm. One of the benefits of generally not caring is that he doesn’t worry about being a bother. It definitely helps when all three of his coworkers get so engrossed in research that they forget they inhabit a physical body.

“Alright,” Jon sighs. He makes a note to himself about where he was in his reading and begins to head to the back room where the mattress is.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Martin says. “I just need a glass of water.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Martin considers arguing Jon right to bed but in all likelihood he could probably use a drink of water as well.

“I think I found out who our Worm Woman used to be,” Jon says as they walk. “Or rather, Sasha found a contract regarding a woman with similar powers being brought into a temple some years ago and attacking the staff there. Her name was Jane Prentiss. She kept a diary that the Institute came into possession of after we took on the contract to go after her.”

“What happened to the people sent out after her?”

“After all the leads dried up, they had to close the contract, but we kept the diary. I’m sure how anything in her diary could be relevant to dealing with what she is now but perhaps you could look over it in the morning to see what you find?”

They get their water and head off to bed. Jon takes off his belt but sleeps in his day clothes. He insists that Martin take the side of the mattress closest to the wall in case Jon gets restless. Martin agrees and Jon climbs and presses his back against Martin. Despite all of Jon’s worrying about restlessness and being unable to sleep, he’s asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

Martin tries to explore the sudden flash of emotion again. He considers the commonalities between the two instances. They both happened around Jon but he doesn’t think the first one was fondness or even directed at Jon specifically. They had both happen inside the Institute and within 24 hours of an interaction with the Admiral. Maybe Jane’s offer of a false heart had awakened something in him. Maybe the reason she was after him was because something of her false promise of belonging had taken root in him.


	9. Sasha has an Encounter and a Plan is Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha comes into work late with an injury, everyone learns a little more about the Worm Woman, and Melanie and Georgie's help devise a plan of attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> Worms  
> Minor Injury  
> Brief Violence

Tim comes in before Sasha. Even though they live together it’s not a rare occasion for them to arrive separately although typically Sasha is the morning person. Apparently, Sasha had stayed up late working on a spell she believed would help them deal with the woman they knew now was once Jane Prentiss and Tim had let her sleep in.

The three of them spend the better part of the morning going over Jane Prentiss’s diary. It reads like a tragedy. A woman so alone that when she’s called by a terrible song of belonging she answers. It gave her belonging and purpose for a price she didn’t totally understand at the time. Martin considers himself lucky that when he went looking for spirits he found one born of fog and isolation instead of twisted belonging. The hive would have festered in his eleven-year-old body so easily. His quest to cure his mother would have given them both over to some new festering disease.

He doesn’t share any of those thoughts with his coworkers, though. At some point, he’ll have to tell them, but he brought Prentiss down on them so he was going to stop her before risking them kicking him out.

“Is there a way we can separate Jane from the hive?” Tim asks.

“Not if she doesn’t want to be separated,” Jon replies instantly. “Er...she sounds like she enjoys being a flesh hive.”

“How much of her is even left now?” Martin asks. It’s something he’s wondered about himself often enough. Who would he be if had a heart still? With the occasional waves of emotion, he’s been experiencing maybe he’ll find out eventually.

When Sasha comes in she looks wild-eyed and she has blood all over her torn sleeve. Tim heals her but she brushes him off when he tries to fuss over her more. He still sticks close. Martin makes them all tea before she explains what happened.

“D’you remember Timothy Hodge?” She begins. “We weren’t thorough enough burning his infected house.”

“What were you doing there?” Tim asks. Sasha looks slightly embarrassed.

“I ran into an old ‘friend’ on the way here. Not really a friend. Technically he was an old classmate. We worked together in light manipulation theory before something...happened to him. I was walking to the Institute when I saw him across the street. He looked like he hadn’t aged a day and on top of that, his reflection in the shop window looked _wrong_. It was a distorted mass with large hands. It was like his human appearance was an illusion. I was curious about what had happened to him, so I went over to speak with him.”

“Is he the one who cut your arm?” Martin asks.

“Uh...Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. I went up to him to ask and he told me he wanted to help. He even mentioned you all by name. He...didn’t seem like the Michael I knew in university. I know that sounds suspicious but you all know me, I’m not foolhardy.”

“...but you had to know,” Tim sighs fondly. Sasha nods.

“He told me he could prove it. I just had to go to the old pub some of our classmates used to go to on weekends. It had been closed down for a few years, but I knew the area well enough and I doubted Michael could do anything especially dangerous in broad daylight,” she continues. Jon makes a sound like he’s going to contradict her, but she gives him a look and he shuts his mouth.

“ _Anyway,_ inside was the bar more or less how I remember it. Just older and in disrepair. I followed Michael inside when I started feeling the floor _move_. It was covered in those little grey worms that followed Martin here. I wasn’t too worried, Martin faced off the Worm Woman by himself, so I braced myself for the awful song. Instead, I saw what was left of Timothy Hodge. He had worms coming out of his eyes. It was disgusting but all I heard were his pained groans. I tried to chase him off with a fear spell but it was like it only affected some of the worms instead of Hodge himself. Michael did _something_ he spoke a spell. _My spell_. The one I’ve been working on but it was distorted. It was like his reflection, very distinctly _not_ what it was pretending to be. Hodge seemed to shift and twist before he just stopped in his tracts and unraveled.”

“How’d this Michael guy find out about your spell?” Tim asks. Martin has a guess.

“That’s what I asked him,” Sasha replies. “He didn’t tell me. He just laughed and told me he could show me for a price. I wasn’t about to make a deal with whatever spirit was wearing my former classmate and I told him as much.”

“Is that when he attacked you?” Jon asks.

“No, it’s when he cut me,” Sasha corrects. “He sliced a worm out of me as a ‘show of good faith’ with his hands. He cut through my arm like it was paper and said he’d let me think about it.”

“You’re not going to, right?” Martin asks. His chest stirs at the thought of Sasha losing something in a rotten deal.

“Of course not, Martin,” Sasha assures. “But now I know it could work on the Worm Woman. I’ll get right back to work on it.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to take a break?” Jon asks. “It sounds like you had quite an ordeal.”

“I’m fine, Jon,” she replies firmly.

“I’ll get you some tea while the others get you up to speed,” Martin says. “Does anyone else want any?”

Martin goes to the small kitchen in the Institute to make tea for the four of them. When he comes back Sasha is pouring over Jon and Tim’s notes on Jane Prentiss’s diary. She’s pointing out some minor grammatical error in the diary itself and Tim is egging her on. His heart or whatever was in his chest ever so gently makes him feel fondness for both of them. It happens the same way it did the previous night; a little bubble of emotion drifting into his awareness for only a moment before popping to leave him numb again. Nothing had even happened this time. He hadn’t been purred into or sung at and yet he _felt_ about these people.

Sasha perfects her spell with Martin's help instead of Michael's. He doesn’t actually do anything but she sits down and explains it to him before realizing her own errors in spell crafting and editing accordingly. She’s not as physical about her excitement as Jon or Tim but Martin can tell she’s very pleased with herself. While they work, Tim and Jon go out looking for Jane Prentiss’s former landlord, Arthur Nolan. Instead, they come back with news of his fiery death and Georgie, Melanie, and the Admiral.

“Looks like you need us to deal with your pest problem,” Melanie says.

“Only because _Elias_ refuses to give us any additional support,” Jon replies in an exasperated tone. “We need a plan to lure Prentiss out so we can deal with her once and for all.”

“You can just use me as bait,” Martin says. Everyone but Georgie looks at him with surprise. Georgie gives him a warning look like he needs to know being bait is dangerous. “She’s after me, right? So I just have to go somewhere we have the advantage and think lonely thoughts or whatever. Then Prentiss shows up and we fight her. Job done.”

“Martin that’s…,” Jon begins in an argumentative tone before stopping himself. “Let’s make that a last resort, alright?”

“Georgie and the Admiral can always track her down to wherever she’s hiding,” Melanie points out. “She’d have the advantage of familiar terrain but we wouldn’t be leaving the Admiral’s new favorite to become worm chow.”

To the Admiral’s credit, he seems to have calmed down his need to pin Martin down and purr as loudly as possible but he still very much favors Martin. Martin scratches the Admiral’s head.

“I definitely like the plan that doesn’t put Martin into worm lady’s sight alone,” Tim says. “Sash, does it matter where you cast your spell?”

“It has a radius effect,” she replies. “It shouldn’t be a problem as long as the rest of you keep your distance.”

“No problem,” Melanie shrugs. “I have throwing daggers.”

“I guess you and I are just going to have to throw our swords,” Tim says nudging Martin.


End file.
